


Make Him Want to Sin

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Curator Harry, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Fundraisers, Jealous Harry, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Museums, Office Sex, Sexual Tension, Sneaking Around, Trustee Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: The stranger’s sharp gaze landed on him immediately, the eye contact shattering through Harry’s defenses. For the first time in his life, Harry had an instantaneous reaction to someone. The man stared down at him with interest, like he wanted to take Harry apart and put him back together again, piece by piece. Harry wanted that more than anything, and he wanted it right now. It took every ounce of strength he had ever possessed to not drop down to his knees instinctively.All from one glance.Harry is a curatorial assistant at the London Museum of Natural History, on the day of the big annual gala he catches a glimpse of someone unexpected.





	Make Him Want to Sin

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).
> 
> My prompt was: 823. The desire to sleep with that total stranger up there, right this moment.
> 
> Title from the song Hotter Than Hell by Dua Lipa

Bleary eyed, Harry pushed his way into the coffee shop between his flat and the tube station as he listened to his coworker, Nick, ramble on about the day they had ahead of them.

They were at the cafe a full hour and a half earlier than they normally would be on a Friday because today was special. For Nick. And yet, somehow Harry had gotten roped into joining him.

Harry and Nick both worked at the Natural History Museum in London; Harry was the Curatorial Assistant and worked in his nice, calm, basement office that had a lovely garden level view out the back of the building. Nick, on the other hand, worked in Special Events for the Advancement department. That meant his sole job was to put on lavish parties, or regular old meetings, meant to convince people to open their wallets and give the Museum even more money in return. It was a never ending cycle.

Harry and Nick met at the staff orientation that everyone went through when they first came on at the Museum, otherwise they may never have crossed paths. There were days (like today) that Harry longed for that alternate universe. Mostly whenever there was a huge event, and Nick informed Harry of when and where he was volunteering against his will.

They stepped into line, Nick still talking, and eventually made their way to the front. Nick ordered a macchiato, Harry a cold brew iced coffee. He loved iced coffee all year round, and this cafe’s cold brew was effectively motor oil. Perfect for the earlier morning.

Nick’s talent was special events, and today was the creme de la creme - the Annual Gala. Harry was sure there was a theme, there was always a generic theme to these things, but he hadn’t really been listening for that bit.

Intellectually, he knew that it calmed Nick down to run through the day’s itinerary in incredibly minute detail, but it annoyed him every single time. He continued to half-listen as they made their way out into the brisk early spring day adding a “Hm” or an “Oh, yeah, of course,” wherever it seemed appropriate.

Because all of the various donors, board members, and trustees would be in town for the Gala, there were meetings with the various VPs of the Museum all day. A finance lunch meeting, a strategic planning lunch meeting, a fundraising lunch meeting; there always seemed to be meals provided for the people who really could afford to buy their own. Harry gave a grunt at the injustice of it.

The Advancement team would be stretched so thin getting ready for the gala, each member was taking a lunch meeting to coordinate. Nick’s assignment was the Strategic Planning lunch, and he was having a right strop about it. The trustees on the planning committee were assigned the task of steering the Museum’s fate five, ten, and twenty years in the future. They were fairly entrepreneurial people, and not the crowd Nick usually catered to with his events.

From Nick’s rambling, Harry knew that he was only stroppy because he was being denied the chance to flirt with the older men on the Finance committee. Nick added a murmured ‘where the money is,’ and Harry rolled his eyes.

“How am I supposed to marry rich, Harold, if they won’t give me the chance?” Nick complained after he caught the third eye roll Harry had given him.

“You could actually meet someone normal, your age, have a boyfriend, date them… Maybe not a sugar daddy this time?” Harry ventured cautiously. Nick just scoffed and continued to complain about his counterpart Caroline and everything she had ever done wrong since the beginning of time.

Harry picked at the ripped hole in the knee of his tight black jeans. He was lucky he got away with them, but it was really only because he worked in the basement. On the whole, the Museum was a pretty relaxed place to work, and much better than the corporate life he had so narrowly avoided.

Harry shifted his hands, and the nylon monogrammed garment bag his mum had given him for Christmas rustled in his grip. Nick paused at the noise, and stared at Harry for a moment.

“Thanks for doing this, Harold. I know I force you into it, but I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem. It might even be fun,” Harry grinned as the tube pulled to a stop in the station closest to the Museum.

“Oh, don’t let me forget. I have to drop something off at the information desk on our way in, so main door it is.” Harry groaned as Nick led the way up the stairs and out onto the street. Going in through the main entrance was the longest route to his office. There were staff doors for a reason.

As they entered the front door and made their way to the desk, Harry took the chance to look around. He really did love the Museum, and he rarely got there early enough to see it so empty. A floor polisher hummed in the corner, and an Exhibit Maintenance team member dusted the barrier around Dippy, the diplodocus skeleton cast that Harry had personally partially repaired his first year at the Museum.

Early morning sunbeams hit the front windows at an angle Harry had never witnessed before, illuminating the galleries with a brand new light. He considered the new hue in the cavernous front hall. Suddenly, his peaceful contemplation was pierced by the high pitched, nasally voice of Caroline, the woman Nick had been complaining about for their entire commute.

It sounded like she was giving a tour of one of the upper galleries that overlooked the main entrance. Nick was still chatting to the cute security guard he had constant sexy banter going with, so Harry turned his back on him to try and catch some of what Caroline  was saying.

At the somewhat awkward angle, he could just make out the backs of the members of the tour. Suits. _Nice_ suits. Harry could spot designer a mile away. They must be trustees here for the day leading up to the party.

Just then, one of them split away from the group and came into view over the balustrade. Harry sucked in a breath and accidentally choked on his coffee. The man was fucking gorgeous. Way too gorgeous for 7:30am that was for sure.

His fringe was soft and artfully tousled, hanging over defined cheekbones and piercing blue eyes, so bright they were visible a full storey below. Harry could really only see his profile, and his aquiline nose was sharp but it complimented the rest of his face so beautifully. Wow, he must _really_ be in the middle of a dry spell if a bloke’s nose was making the heat pool low in his abdomen.

Attempting to recover from choking on his coffee, Harry let out a few discreet coughs to try and clear his windpipe. Unfortunately, the great hall was all marble and stone, so those minor coughs ricocheted dramatically with no crowds of tourists to dampen the sound.

The stranger’s sharp gaze landed on him immediately, the eye contact shattering through Harry’s defenses. For the first time in his life, Harry had an instantaneous reaction to someone. The man stared down at him with interest, like he wanted to take Harry apart and put him back together again, piece by piece. Harry wanted that more than anything, and he wanted it right now. It took every ounce of strength he had ever possessed to not drop down to his knees instinctively.

All from one glance.

His heart pounded against his rib cage as the stranger took him in, blatantly checking him out from head to toe. Harry’s neck was beginning to strain with the angle of looking up at the second level, but nothing in the world could have torn his gaze away.

The stranger must have realized what kind of effect he was having on Harry, and when his eyes met Harry’s again, he smirked and raised his eyebrow almost imperceptibly. The gesture set loose a thousand tiny butterflies in Harry’s stomach.

So, the stranger wanted to play, did he? This. Flirting. Harry could do this.

He smirked right back and lowered his lashes at the stranger before looking up at a much deeper angle, not bothering to hide his blush. He knew what this look did to men, he wasn’t oblivious to how well it worked when he was out trying to pull.

The stranger tried not to give anything away, but even from his position below, Harry could see his knuckles turn white where he gripped the balustrade.

Shifting slightly to pop his hip out a bit, Harry pulled out the final trick in his arsenal. He very slowly brought the iced coffee straw to the side of his mouth, and he could see the instant the stranger caught on to what he was doing.

Very naturally, and about one thousand times slower than normal, Harry wrapped his lips around the straw. The stranger's eyes sparked, practically shooting bolts of electricity down to the ground floor. _Do it_ , his eyes dared.

That was all the encouragement Harry needed before he sucked gently on the plastic, cheeks purposefully hollowing as the creamy flavor exploded on his tongue. Even his morning coffee had been made more sensual by this man.

“Well, hello there, Daddy!” Nick’s voice in his ear made Harry startle and he came close to choking on his coffee for the second time in five minutes. Nick was staring hungrily up at the balcony without censure, and Harry felt an unnatural jealousy take root.

Great, Harry thought to himself glumly, now that Nick was in the picture, Harry didn’t stand a chance. That was always how it was when they went out together. Harry had some luck, sure, but if he was out with Nick and the bloke happened to catch Nick’s eye, the guy would eventually end up taken in by Nick’s more suave, more confident, more more more personality. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t think he could hold his own in the charm department, he just didn’t like the ‘friendly competition’ as Nick liked to call it.

If a guy wanted to be fought over, Harry wasn’t interested. He liked to find someone, focus on them, and see where the evening might lead. He usually did alright, but he never really stood a chance with Nick around.

Harry had turned towards Nick when he had startled him, but quickly turned back to his mystery balcony dweller, cursing the fact that Nick had finally noticed him.

The man was still standing away from the group of trustees, and still looking out over the balcony, but he wasn’t as distinctly, deliciously, concentrated on Harry any more. His gaze seemed shuttered a bit.

The moment was gone. Harry waved Nick off to his office in the towers, heaved a sigh, and turned towards the door that led to his cosy basement - _garden level_ \- office.

Harry’s morning passed quickly; he had plenty of preserved butterflies to catalog for an upcoming exhibit on insect research in the Victorian Era. He enjoyed it when his job gave him something exceptionally pretty to look at all day, and he loved the unique colors and patterns on butterfly wings.

He was so engrossed in his cataloging that he barely noticed when the shrill ring of his desk phone pierced the calm of his office. Cracking each of his vertebrae as he sat up, Harry read the caller ID and groaned.

“‘Lo?”

“Harry, darling.” Nick laid on the charm in that exaggerated way he only used when he was really hard up for a favor.

“What do you want?” Harry’s voice was rough from lack of use, and breathing in what was most likely several hundred years of dust and dander. He didn’t always work with much older objects, but he was horrible at remembering to wear his dust mask when he did.

“Harold! I am appalled that you would assume I’m calling in a favor.” Nick’s dramatic and scandalized tone had reached 1930s movie star levels, it must really be bad in the tower offices today.

Harry didn’t respond.

“Okay, fine. I would really, really love some help picking up and delivering the lunch to the planning committee meeting.” Harry rolled his eyes, somehow he had known it was going to be that.

“Do I get any of the free lunch?” Harry opened the door of the mini fridge and eyed the now wilted leaves of the salad he had brought with him.

“Of course, Harry. Who do you take me for?”

“Okay, okay, Clara Bow. Calm down. I’ll help,” Harry caved.

“Thank you, daaaahhhling. Noon. At the info desk. Cheers!” The dial tone rang in Harry’s ears before he could even think to respond.

“Cheers,” he said to the now useless phone in his hand and went back to work until it was time to head upstairs.

 

At noon, Harry was standing at the info desk chatting to his friend Dan from the call center who was up to cover the regular attendant’s lunch break.

At twelve fifteen, he was still chatting to Dan.

Finally at twelve twenty, Nick showed up just as the delivery driver from Harry’s favorite fancy Italian restaurant parked in front of the doors.

“Nick! When is this lunch happening, anyway? I’ve been up here waiting for you since noon.”

“I completely lost track of time - it starts at twelve thirty, so we need to get it upstairs right now.”

Harry could tell Nick was stressed so he didn’t point out the fact that the driver had shown up late, which could only mean Nick had ordered it late as well, so he had known well in advance that the noon timeframe was wrong. Oh well.

They hurried with the food up to the meeting room on the sixth floor. Because the view was so beautiful, all the conference rooms had floor-to-ceiling windows.

There were five people already seated when they made their way in, chatting, scanning their phones, or in one case tapping away wildly on a laptop. It was the man behind the screen of the laptop that made Harry’s breath catch in his throat, and falter over the doorjamb just enough that he tripped a bit over his own feet.

Oh, God. Here he was again. A trustee. A planning committee member. This was just Harry’s luck. Nick had clearly spotted him too, after catching Harry’s display of grace.

Always affable and charming, Nick began to talk to the two donors he knew, trying to draw the mysterious member of their party away from his computer, coaxing responses out of him with flirty lines. It was a tad embarrassing, if Harry was being honest. Nick was so blatantly flirting with _his_ balcony stranger.

Harry’s mind went back to what he had been doing earlier with his coffee straw. Nope. Harry was way more embarrassing than Nick.

Almost as though he could read Harry’s thoughts, the balcony stranger made fierce eye contact with Harry, eyes blazing. The intensity combined with the memory of his behavior earlier had Harry’s cheeks flaming crimson. The stranger continued to murmur responses to Nick’s questions and comments, but his eyes never left Harry. Hands shaking, Harry laid out napkins and utensils and turned to put water pitchers on top of the credenza at the back of the room.

He was concentrating so intently on pouring the water while trying to quell the tremors in his hands, he didn’t even feel the change in atmosphere as someone moved into his space.

“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” The stranger picked up a pitcher of water and went to pour himself a glass. His body was angled open to the room, but he was pressed in as close to Harry as he possibly could be while still maintaining a professional distance. Harry hated it. He craved the warmth of this man’s body more than he craved his next breath. The man’s voice was raspy and high, his fingers delicate but strong where they wrapped around the handle of the pitcher.

Both times he’d seen this stranger, it was like Harry’s connection to reality was cut and he was just a mess of jumbled nerve endings and sexual frustration.

Harry cleared his throat and watched the stranger bring the rim of the glass to his lips to take a sip, “I… um, I didn’t know you would be here. I don’t know your name.”

“My name’s Louis, love, what’s yours?” If it had been any other man hitting on him in any other situation, Harry would have rolled his eyes at the cheesy line and walked away at being called ‘love’ but when Louis said it, it was genuine, and warmth spread through his limbs, like he had taken a sip of spiked hot cider. Deep, yummy, comforting.

“Harry-” that was all Harry managed to get out before someone was calling Louis from across the room. Briefly Harry registered a friendly brunette with dark brown glasses and some kind of odd newsboy cap who seemed to have just come in. Was he a trustee? This newcomer was far from the stodgy image Harry had of their regular board members. Then again, so was Louis.

His hands had long stopped doing anything useful and had fallen to his sides. Louis’ fingers were curled up into his own palm at his side, and with the slightest twitch, the very backs of his knuckles caressed the sensitive skin on the inside of Harry’s wrist, hidden from view by Harry’s body.

“See you later, Harry,” Louis said in a much more unaffected voice than Harry could possibly manage at this point.

“See you,” he nodded at Louis and made his exit quickly following Nick, doing his best to hide just how much tighter his jeans had gotten since he had come into the room.

In the hallway, with the door safely closed behind them, Harry leaned up against the wall and took a few fortifying breaths.

Two minutes with Louis had felt more intense than a whole day staying in bed with his last boyfriend.

“Harry, mate, y’alright?” Nick looked genuinely concerned, which wasn’t a look Harry often saw on him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a bit peaky.” With all of Nick’s flirting with Louis, Harry couldn’t possibly tell him about this… whatever this was between him and Louis.

“Alright, well, get it together-still got a long day ahead of us!”

The gala. Right. They liked to plant staff members at certain tables where the donors’ interests aligned with their specific jobs. There was one family, the Edwards family, that Harry always ended up sitting with because they were interested in the Museum’s vast collections and they had an exorbitant amount of money. Their children came along when they could, and were Harry’s age. Harry genuinely enjoyed spending the time with them, which always made work events just a little bit better.

But, tonight… Would Louis be there? Is that why he had been around all day? He seemed to be a trustee, most likely a new one, as Harry had never seen him before. Not that he interacted much with the trustees at all aside from in passing.

Maybe he could sneak a peek at the guest list.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved off Nick’s concerns, “I’ll walk back with you to your office, I just want to see the guest list for tonight.”

Nick turned to him, confused, “Why?”

Harry fumbled for an excuse, “Oh, um… the Edwards. I wanted to see if Perrie and Jonny are coming.”

“Perrie is, Jonny isn’t. You’re sitting with them, don’t worry, I don’t mess with what works.”

Great. Now excuseless, Harry floundered. “Yeah, I’ll still take a look, see who else is coming.”

Nick looked even more confused, “Okay, sure. Whatever.” They badged into the fourth floor and made their way around the cubicles to the Advancement area. When they reached Nick’s somewhat secluded desk, he picked up a printed list off of one of his many stacks of paperwork and thrust it into Harry’s hands. “Go wild.”

Nick was carrying on a conversation with Jessica about the angle of the place cards or something as Harry poured over the guest list. He scanned the list looking for any name he could comment on to seem less suspicious, but he was still too keyed up about Louis to even pretend he wasn’t trying to figure out his last name.

Boom. Louis Tomlinson. Closely followed by Charlotte Tomlinson. Harry’s blood ran cold. A wife. Louis had a wife, even while he had been flirting with Harry. Their names were preceded by a Deakin and followed by a Napolitano, so it was clear the Tomlinsons would be attending as a couple.

The minor, but constant, adrenaline high Harry had been riding since he had first seen Louis that morning crashed quickly as he made his way downstairs. Back to work, hunched over the desk in his office, he could feel the exhaustion taking root in his bones.

He had built up a fantasy in his mind of Louis finally giving him what he needed, taking the edge off of this dry spell. Never in his life had he ever experienced such overwhelming desire when faced with a random stranger. He assumed it had _meant_ something.

So much for that, he thought as he attempted to rub the grit from his eyes. Four more hours to go until set up. Not to mention the event itself.

Harry eyed the beat-up couch along the far wall of his office. He had to admit, being in a small department had its perks. Laying himself out, feet kicked up over the far arm, he set the alarm on his phone for 3:30pm. Someone would probably need him before then and wake him up, but he could allow himself the illusion of two hours to nap.

 

No one ever did come to get him before his alarm went off. While the bit of sleep did him good, he was a little groggy after waking up. He grabbed the finishing creme for his hair and made his way to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. The product for his hair was always at the bottom of his work bag, but he had never used it before today. Not that he wanted to spruce himself up a bit for tonight. No...

Lying to himself wasn’t doing any good.

Maybe he wanted to flaunt himself a bit, have Louis see what he was missing out on - what he couldn’t have - while he was sitting next to his wife. It was Louis’ fault for flirting with Harry while married in the first place.

Upon returning, he locked his office door and pulled his suit out of the garment bag. His suit was a fairly plain black, but the shirt was a splurge. It was a beautiful, creamy off white silk shirt that he had bought for his one year anniversary of the museum hiring him. He loved to break it out for slightly more formal events like this one.

He pulled off his regular work shirt first, swiped on some extra deodorant, and gingerly unbuttoned the silk shirt. After putting it on, and pulling on the trousers to tuck it in, Harry paused and looked at himself in the mirror before completely zipping up the fly.

The tie he had picked out was laid across the back of his office chair, a beautiful deep maroon color that would look very nice. But Harry didn’t want to look nice tonight. He wanted to look tempting, untouchable, and yet somehow fuckable.

Not knowing where this revenge streak was coming from, Harry untucked the tails of his shirt from his trousers. Instead of picking up the tie, he left it off and unbuttoned the top three buttons of the shirt.

No longer held together by the buttons, the plackets of his shirt were slinky and cool against the skin of his chest. The wingtips and beaks of his sparrow tattoos just peeked through the opening, and the silver chain he always wore fell enticingly in between, disappearing behind the first done up button.

He smirked to himself, pulling the jacket of the suit on over his masterpiece. He fluffed the now slightly more defined curly ends of his hair where they just brushed his shoulders, and strode out of his office with confidence.

As he entered the now-transformed main exhibit hall where his fateful flirting had taken place early that morning, Harry surveyed the sea of tables. Staff members were bustling about, place cards in hand, rearranging things, adjusting centerpieces, counting goblets. Everything was a flurry of activity.

Nick and Caroline appeared to be arguing about something, so Harry made his way over to intervene.

“You can’t just move everything like that last minute, Nick! What are you thinking?” Caroline whined.

“Everything? Everything? It is five place cards, Caroline. I’m swapping one family for another. It is completely harmless.” Nick sounded like he was at the end of his rope, and he was waving his hands about with place cards tucked between every single one of his long fingers, gesticulating between two tables that were next to each other.

“Technically, it’s ten place cards, Nicholas!” Caroline was breathing fire, and Nick looked to be about one harsh breath away from slapping her. Harry had to do something.

“Nick!” His friend turned to him sharply, theoretical guns still blazing. Once Nick realized it was Harry, he relaxed his posture and pushed past Caroline to come around to the other side of the table. “What is going on, mate?” Harry asked, hopeful he could put out the fire like he had in the past for the melodramatic pair.

Nick immediately lowered his voice and a sly grin bloomed across his face. “So, there’s a new trustee,” Harry sucked in a breath, he knew exactly where this was going.

“There were at least four new trustees, last time I checked,” he answered, hoping to deflect Nick’s attention.

“Yeah, but this one was that gorgeous guy we saw this morning. He was at the planning committee lunch too. Did you see him?” No such luck, then.

“Um, maybe?”

“God, Harry. He’s fucking hot, how could you not notice him? Well, I figured out his name - it’s Louis Tomlinson. So with some creative maneuvering I’ve switched him and his party to our table. He’s going to sit next to me, and I’m going to be fucking charming, and he’s going to like it.” Nick turned around, smug as anything, and began replacing the placecards in question.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t warn Nick off the very-much married Louis Tomlinson without admitting that he _had_ noticed Louis, and that he was the whole reason Harry had been eyeing the guest list earlier.

On the other hand, it might be funny to watch Nick try to flirt with Louis all evening only to be shot down. Mostly because it happened to Nick so infrequently. He was getting a bit cocky. Harry heaved a sigh; he was a terrible, awful person who deserved whatever punishment was thrown at him. He knew well in advance that his particular purgatory this evening would be having the only man he had ever experienced lust-at-first-sight with within speaking distance of him.

Nick grabbed Harry’s arm and dragged him over to what was presumably their table. The table sat ten people, the Edwards would be on one side of the circle, with Louis and his guests - which did actually include the Deakin and the Napolitano names he had seen on the list - plus one more with the last name Horan on the other side. Who were all these people?

Nick and Harry were sitting across from each other breaking up the parties. Nick placed Harry’s name down between his friend Perrie and whoever this ‘N. Horan’ person was. Next was D. Deakin, T. Napolitano, C. Tomlinson, and finally L. Tomlinson, all the way across the table from Harry. Next to Nick.

Harry tried not to let his blood boil as he watched Nick place his own card with great relish and flair.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Harry asked, snark dripping off of his voice. Immediately, he wished he could take it back. Thankfully, Nick was too wrapped up in what he was doing to see just how uncomfortable Harry was.

Seating was the very last thing to be figured out before the cocktail hour began on the upper level. Guests were already beginning to make their way upstairs as Harry and Nick hopped on the escalator.

Harry didn’t come up to the upper level very frequently, but they had spruced it up nicely for the event. Grabbing a vodka cranberry, Harry decided to indulge his masochistic streak and pushed through the crowd, emerging on the balcony where he had seen Louis that morning. Had it really just been that morning? Twelve hours had felt like twelve days.

“This wasn’t exactly where I had expected to find you.” The murmur reached Harry first, followed closely by the warmth again. It was like taking a hit. Harry’s spine stiffened in defense and he breathed in harshly through his nostrils. Willing his lips shut so he wouldn’t give himself away. “How was the rest of your day, Harry?”

How did Louis do that? How did he make the most mundane question sound suggestive and provocative?

“Fine,” Harry’s voice was rough, he cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

“That straw is entirely too small to demonstrate your technique.” Louis was now standing next to Harry, his stance mirroring Harry’s looking out over the expansive hall, empty tables illuminated by colored uplights and decadent chandeliers. “You look beautiful.”

Harry’s blush deepened again - for the millionth time that day - clearly it was his body’s permanent reaction to Louis, no matter how off-limits the man actually was.

“Louis, we shouldn’t be doing this,” Harry protested. Louis moved a fraction of an inch away from Harry.

“I know I’m coming on strong, I do, but I don’t know how many chances I’ll have with you and I don’t want to let this one go. If you’re uncomfortable with this, or with me being a trustee-” Harry couldn’t let him keep going.

“No! That’s not it at all,” he whispered, cutting him off. “How can you flirt with me when you have-” He was swiftly cut off by the arrival of Louis’ party. Harry counted three men, including the one with the glasses he had seen at the lunch meeting, and one very elegantly dressed woman. The wife.

She had heavily dyed hair, so light and grey and well taken care of that it looked silver. Harry hated how well it complimented her skin tone. Her makeup was done beautifully, her style was effortless; he was in pain.

Louis took a larger step back from both the balustrade and Harry. “Did you get some drinks?” he addressed the group and held up his rocks glass filled with either whisky or scotch to illustrate his point.

One of the men, who looked slightly older than the rest of the party, answered in the negative, and Louis pointed towards the bar dismissively, clearly hoping they would all go and leave him alone with Harry again.

The darker haired young man standing next to Louis’ wife leaned over and gave her a brief peck on the lips before heading off in the direction of the bar.

Okay… maybe Harry had jumped to a few conclusions. But, that meant-

Harry turned his gaze and was met with Louis staring at his profile with such intensity it took his breath away again. This whole day had been such a whirlwind, by all accounts Harry should be exhausted but all he could feel was exhilaration. Louis wasn’t married.

“That’s my sister, Lottie.” Louis said, his voice low, the phrase heavy with implications. He knew what Harry had thought.

“She’s lovely,” Harry whispered.

“Tommy seems to think so, she’s perpetually a ten year old brat to me, though.”

T. Napolitano. Another mystery solved.

Soon enough the events team, led by Nick, began encouraging guests to head down to their seats for the plated dinner. Louis gave Harry a questioning look, and they began to make their way towards the grand staircase.

Louis hung back a bit waiting for his sister and the man with the glasses to pass in front of them. As soon as Harry’s foot landed on the first step, he felt the warm pressure of Louis’ hand on the small of his back. Knowing himself and his own clumsiness, he concentrated on the steps in front of him so the overwhelming feeling of his legs turning to jelly wouldn’t cause him to lose his footing.

When they reached the table, everyone searched for their place cards and filed into their seats. Because the new seating arrangement Nick had crafted was burned into his retinas, he knew that meant the slightly older gentleman who had already taken his seat was was D. Deakin. Harry looked down at the card in between them: L. Tomlinson. What?

“Harry!” Perrie’s lyrical voice cut through his confusion. Attempting to be polite, Harry smiled at his friend and saw that Perrie’s girlfriend Jesy was accompanying her and her mother instead of Mr. Edwards.

“Pez! How are you, babes? Ladies’ night out?” he leaned down to embrace Perrie, doing his best to ignore Louis pulling out the chair next to him. Louis was in the wrong seat. Harry should be sitting next to N. Horan. Thoughts now completely jumbled, he concentrated on pulling his own chair out and sitting down. He undid the button on his jacket and adjusted himself.

Perrie continued to chatter on, catching him up on her and Jesy’s recent trip to the fjords in Norway. Meanwhile his brain seemed to be full of white noise, the only thing cutting through was _Louis was in the wrong seat_. What was going to happen when Nick came down and figured it out?

Nothing. Harry suddenly thought to himself, just as smug as Nick had been earlier. What _could_ Nick do? They were donors, they were already seated. It would be tactless for Nick to put up a fight, which  meant that _Harry_ was stuck with Louis for a multiple course meal. He couldn’t help the small smirk he felt on his own lips.

Harry looked up across the table, and a flash of silver caught his eye. One of the servers was placing a salad down in front of Louis’ sister. The man with the glasses that he had seen earlier at the lunch meeting was on one side next to Nick’s empty plate where Louis should have been. He was probably N. Horan, if the cards had just been swapped for some reason.

Harry opened his mouth to say something — anything — but Nick had arrived, and he was fuming. Granted, Harry was the only one who could probably tell, Nick’s talking-to-donors mask was firmly in place, but he could see it in the tightness around his eyes and the slightly more downturned corners of his smile.

“And how is my lovely table doing? Has everyone met everyone else so far?” The cheer in Nick’s voice was just a little too harsh, and it reminded Harry how rude he must have been. Perrie had been in the middle of telling him something before he had gotten distracted.

He turned to her to make any necessary introductions only to see her staring at him; her perfectly sculpted eyebrows were practically in her hairline. Whoops.

Jesy cut in to save him, “Right, love. Who’s this, then?” She sounded polite, but Harry knew her well enough by now to hear the teasing in her voice. He was definitely going to hear about this later.

“Sorry, yes. Perrie, Jesy, this is Louis. Louis this is Perrie and Jesy. Perrie’s mother Debbie is in the farthest seat.” He gave Debbie a wave and she sent him a warm smile in return.

At that point the entire table was staring at the four of them, clearly using them as a catalyst to do the rest of the introductions.

Louis turned a megawatt smile on Perrie and Jesy, light years away from the intense looks he had been giving Harry all day and yet somehow even more disarming. When Louis smiled, his entire body lit up and it was beautiful to witness.

“It’s probably best if I just go down the line,” he said in a self-deprecating tone, as if he knew how silly it was to bring so many people with him, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Fuck. Harry was endeared. “This is my step-dad Dan, my brother-in-law Tommy, my sister Lottie, and that deplorable hanger-on is my best friend Niall Horan. He’s also a new trustee this year.”

The rest of the table launched into smaller introductions and more private chats, leaving Harry and Louis in a bubble of silence, completely engulfed by themselves in the din of conversation bouncing around the room.

Everyone began to tuck into their salads as they talked. Harry didn’t know where to start the conversation with Louis. They were momentarily unbothered, but with eight companions, it wouldn’t stay that way for long. This was far too public a setting for Harry to do or say what he’d like.

Harry picked up his fork and speared a beet. Just as he closed his lips around the bite, he felt a hand on his right thigh under the table cloth.

The hand, Louis’ hand, wasn’t rubbing or moving, it was just there. Heavy, comforting, both loaded with promise and not at the same time.

“Is this okay?” Louis asked out of the corner of his mouth as he pushed his own beet off to the side of his plate. Didn’t like to eat his vegetables. Interesting.

Just the fact that Louis was asking was enough to get Harry even hotter under his unbuttoned collar. Louis was bold enough to make the move, but gentlemanly enough to realize he could be pressuring Harry into moving too quickly.

“Yes, so okay,” Harry breathed out, reaching for his wine glass. He took a sip, but he had the cocktail earlier and he really needed to remain levelheaded if the past five minutes had been any indication.

“So, Louis…” Harry stiffened as Nick took up a conversation with Louis instead, very clearly laying on the charm. Louis’ hand squeezed Harry’s thigh lightly.

The entire table knew what Nick was up to, he was being completely shameless. For some reason Niall, Louis’ friend, had rolled his lips in as if he was trying to prevent himself from laughing. Harry watched as his face got progressively redder from the effort. As he was watching, Niall’s gaze came up to meet Harry’s which just seemed to make it even more difficult for him.

Nick demanded Louis’ attention for the rest of the salad course, the appetizer course, and the beginning of the main course. His thirst for Louis must have really been something as it required him to talk across four people, completely throwing tact out of the window.

The problem was, Harry understood. His own thirst for Louis’ undivided attention was immeasurable, and he felt like he was drowning in it with every minute that passed while their bodies remained connected. He did his best to talk to Perrie and Jesy. Lottie asked him a few questions about what he did, and they had a pleasant conversation even though it was partially drowned out by Nick. Throughout all of it Louis ate his meal and drank his wine with his right hand, never releasing his grip on Harry under the table.

Eventually he couldn’t take it any more. He very carefully shifted his thigh under Louis’ hand, spreading his legs so that his knee bumped Louis’. Louis glanced at him asking the question, eyes flicking down to Harry’s lips. _Are you sure you want to do this?_

Harry had barely finished nodding when Louis addressed the table.

“I really need to find the loo, but I’m afraid I don’t know the Museum well enough yet.”

“Oh I can-” Nick began to get up, but Niall quickly placed a hand on his arm.

“Nick, mate, what’s the deal with this Trustee retreat in July?” Nick settled back in his seat torn between answering Niall’s question and watching Louis.

Louis turned to Harry with a pleading look, and it clicked.

“Actually, I have to use the loo as well. Shall I show you?” Harry asked Louis.

“Perfect. Shall we?” Louis pulled Harry’s chair away from the table as Harry stood.

They made their way towards the back of the hall.

“We’re going to need somewhere a lot more private than the loo.” Louis’ voice was dark and dangerous in Harry’s ear.

“Follow me.” Instead of turning left to go to the restrooms, Harry turned right and was faced with a locked door. He was so glad he had remembered to tuck his security badge into his breast pocket.

As soon as they had cleared the door, Harry could feel the cool plaster of the wall against his back, and Louis was pressed in close to his front.

“Fucking finally,” Louis exclaimed right before he leaned up to claim Harry’s mouth. The kiss was urgent and bruising and everything Harry had ever wanted. It wasn’t the most romantic first kiss, but Harry was burning up from the inside out. He needed Louis too urgently for soft romance.

Louis pulled off to take a breath and attach his lips to Harry’s neck, but it gave Harry the space to remember where they were. He brought his hands up to push Louis’ shoulders back a bit, dislodging him with an obscene pop. “Not here. Still too busy.” He reached down to grab Louis’ hand and led him through another doorway and down a set of stairs.

“The basement?” Louis asked.

“Garden level,” Harry ground out, he was too sexually frustrated for this argument right now. Louis giggled at the harshness in his tone.

When he finally reached his office, he fumbled with the key but eventually got it unlocked.

“Mmph-” Louis was kissing him up against the full length mirror on his door before he could even turn the light on. The same full length mirror Harry had used to plot his sartorial revenge earlier in the evening. How ridiculous that all seemed now as the heat from Louis’ body seeped through their layers of clothing to mix with his own.

Now that they were enveloped in the shadowed privacy of his office, Harry let himself concentrate on Louis fully. He brought his hand up to Louis’ jaw, feeling the stubble scrape against the inside of his palm. His touch must have jolted Louis back to reality because he pulled back quickly, resting his face in the crook of Harry’s neck.

“What is happening to me?” Louis asked, breaking the silence. Harry sensed the question was rhetorical, so he didn’t say anything, just brought his hands around Louis’ waist to lightly rub his back. “I used to have some self-control.” He didn’t explain any further, just began nibbling at Harry’s neck along the edge of the collar of his jacket.

A few more seconds ticked by and Harry couldn’t bear how good the scrape of Louis’ teeth felt, blistering on his sensitive skin. He began to let out a low moan but swallowed it at the last minute.

Louis pulled back and thumbed at Harry’s lip, meeting his eyes with the same intensity he had shown all day, “No, baby, I want to hear you. Please.” The combination of the command with Louis’ pleading tone and look did Harry in.

“Lou,” he begged, not even sure what he was asking.

“I’ve got you.”

Harry pushed himself off the door, leading Louis back towards his desk which he had thankfully cleaned off earlier. The fantasy of pushing a mess off so you could fool around on it wasn’t as fun when it was 19th century insect samples.

Louis figured out what Harry’s intention was and backed him up against the desk, and when Harry couldn’t go any farther, Louis still pushed. Harry could feel his own cock, rock hard and aching brush against Louis’. A small whimper escaped from the back of his throat at the relief from finally feeling some friction.

“Can I fuck you?” Louis’ simple question made Harry’s knees give out.

“Yeah, yes. Yes.” Harry breathed out as he tried not to hyperventilate or faint. Whichever came first. At most he thought they would exchange some quick hand jobs, or maybe Louis would let him suck him off, but now that Louis had suggested it, he craved feeling Louis inside of him.

“Baby, Harry, we have exactly no time, and I fucking need you bent over this desk.” He pulled back already working the zipper on Harry’s trousers. Louis pushed Harry’s trousers and pants down all in one go and then reached for his own. “Turn around.” The command this time was evident in his tone and excitement buzzed in Harry’s veins.

He had never done anything like this before, he had one or two one night stands but those mostly stemmed from failed dates where there was some wine, conversation, mutual attraction. It was nothing like this. This feeling where everything burned so hot and bright so quickly.

“Wait, Louis, do you have any stuff?” Harry blushed, half dressed, hard and desperate in his own office.

“Yeah, honey. Here, hold on to them?” Harry held his hand out to receive the condom and small travel packet of lube. Did Louis always carry some with him? Harry was torn between feeling jealous and also getting turned on from his preparedness.

Clenching the metallic packets in his hand, he leaned over his desk, dropping his head down on to his forearms, breathing through the mild embarrassment of effectively presenting himself to Louis.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Louis’ hands dipped under the fabric of his shirt and jacket, lightly scraping the skin of his lower back, trailing down over his arse.

“You can’t even see me,” Harry pointed out, voice breathy and thin as he felt Louis’ thumbs pull his cheeks apart. Harry felt a light gust of air and that was all the warning he had before Louis licked boldly across his rim. “Oh God,” Harry moaned, knees finally giving out. Louis held on to hips and managed to keep him upright.

“I wish I had more time. The things I would do to you,” Louis tapped Harry’s arm, and Harry handed him the lube first, still shaking.

“Tell me,” Harry managed.

Louis huffed out a laugh, “You want to hear, do you?” Harry nodded and he wasn’t even sure Louis could see it, but the next thing he felt was Louis’ cool slicked up fingers trace around his rim. His hips twitched a little from the surprise as Louis’ finger breached the muscle and entered him fully.

“You’re so tight,” Louis observed reverently, “going to feel so good.” Cognizant of how long they had been away from the table, Louis began to scissor him open efficiently, just barely getting close to his prostate, but never quite reaching it. Harry was practically sobbing through two fingers, and then three.

Louis kept one hand on his hip while he reached under Harry’s torso to pry the condom out of his clenched hand. Harry heard him tear the packet, and then there was some more rustling, but he was so far gone, his brain had gone fuzzy and he couldn’t make himself pay close enough attention.

Soon, he felt Louis begin to enter him. “Breathe for me, baby.” It took Harry a few moments to adjust. Once he did he felt so fucking full and it felt so fucking good, but he began to get restless.

“Louis, move. Please!” Louis chuckled again, but started to pull out excruciatingly slowly.

“Do you know, my favorite room in my house is my bedroom?” Louis picked up his pace, sliding in and out of Harry as he began to speak as if they were just shooting the breeze. “The bed is huge, and the decor is so peaceful and relaxing. It’s my escape in the middle of London.” Louis angled his hips just right and began hitting Harry’s prostate with every thrust. It felt like bolts of lightning escaping across his whole body. “You asked what I wanted to do to you? I would spread you out across that bed, maybe tie you to it, who knows. Then I would take my time with you.”

Harry had given up trying to meet Louis’ thrusts, between how good it felt, and now Louis’ voice in his ear, he could do nothing more than just take what Louis was giving him.

“I would start at your feet, taste every single inch of you. Keep you in bed all day.” Louis’ thrusts got a little shallower, constantly pressing as deep as he could go. Harry could feel his orgasm building, it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. “Once I had you there, I would never let you go. Give you everything you need.”

Louis’ breathing was heavy as he brought his hand around pumping Harry’s shaft once, twice. “Come for me, beautiful.” Harry’s vision whited out as he came hard onto the front of the drawers underneath his desk. His muscles reflexively clamped down on Louis, and he could feel him shoot into the condom, groaning Harry’s name.

He felt Louis’ forehead press down on his shoulder blades as he took a breath.

“Jesus, Harry. That was amazing.”

“Lou,” Harry croaked out, again, not sure what he was asking for. Never before had he ever felt this kind of trust in someone he slept with - Louis knew what Harry was asking for, Louis knew what he wanted, Louis knew how to manipulate his body so a ten minute hookup made him come harder than he ever had in his life.

Oh, God. Ten minutes, it had to have been even longer than that by now. “Lou we have to get back to the table.”

“Shit, shit, shit. You’re right.” Louis pulled out of Harry carefully, and Harry felt himself wince in discomfort. He tied the condom off and tossed it into Harry’s bin where he normally threw out his lunch.

Louis helped him clean up and they both rushed to get their trousers redone. Once they had checked themselves over, they exited the office. Harry caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror on the way out and he knew there was no way the entire table wasn’t going to know what they had been doing. Flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, hair going in eighteen different directions. Nothing he could do about it now.

They hurried back up the stairs and out the door, past the loos they were supposed to have been in, as Louis reached down and grabbed his hand.

Weaving through the tables back in the main hall, hands still joined, Harry caught a glimpse of Nick who must have stood up to visit some other donors. He hadn’t seen them yet.

As they stepped up to the table, Louis dropped his hand discretely and pulled out Harry’s chair. The conversations ceased immediately and there was a beat of silence before Louis’ friend Niall burst out laughing. Everyone else giggled, and as Harry felt his cheeks heat up, he reached for his water glass and took a big gulp.  There were two completely untouched dessert plates in front of their places, and as Harry glanced around he could tell that everyone else had already finished theirs. His was missing a chocolate straw on top. He suspected Perrie.

“So, lads…” it was Jesy who spoke up first, Harry braced himself. “How was the loo?”

Louis had also taken a drink of water and promptly snorted into his goblet causing a bit of water to spill over the edge.

Harry gaped at her.

Louis calmly put his water glass back on the table, dabbed at the spill with the napkin and opened his mouth to explain.

Nick returned before he could, and while before Nick had been merely politely angry at the change in places, now he was visibly fuming. If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears.

“Where were you?” He asked Harry, very pointedly.

Lottie, of all people, came to their rescue. “Lou was just about to tell us, weren’t you Lou?”

Louis picked up his fork and dug into his cheesecake, “Well, we were already up and about, so Harry decided to give me a little tour of his favorite gallery.”

Nick wasn’t buying it, “And pray tell, which gallery did Mr. Styles give you a personal tour of?” Harry blanched as he realized Louis probably didn’t even know that was his last name. Fuck.

As quickly as possible, he bumped Louis’ knee with his own, cleared his throat and picked up his water glass, subtly glancing towards the Dippy skeleton at the front of the hall, hoping Louis had picked up telepathy in the last five minutes.

Louis’ gaze never wavered from Nick’s as he smoothly replied, “The dinosaurs, of course. I told Harry I liked them earlier during the cocktail hour.” Something about that seemed to set Niall off again, but Harry couldn’t be bothered because he was so impressed with how Louis had handled the question.

The answer seemed to placate their audience enough, but as conversations resumed around them, Nick didn’t bother trying to flirt with Louis again. After a few minutes had passed and Nick continued to speak to Perrie’s mother instead, Harry began to feel a bit smug. He couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up.

Louis once again laid his hand on Harry’s thigh under the table but this time it was much higher up, and his fingers brushed Harry’s inseam. Everyone kept glancing at them, attempting to be subtle, but no one was really succeeding.

Questions about seeing Louis again, their future, the enticing scenario with the bed he offered up, flew threw Harry’s mind.

“Will you come to mine tonight?” Louis murmured in the same way he had earlier when he was first asking for permission to touch Harry. But this time, everything had changed.

“Of course,” Harry responded. With anyone else Harry would have been wary of sounding desperate, but this was Louis. Harry barely knew him, but still, he didn’t want to play games.

Louis smiled widely down at his cheesecake, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Niall cleared his throat and Harry realized everyone was beginning to get up around them. Dinner was officially over.

As they all made their way towards the coat check saying goodbyes, Louis was drawn into a conversation with his step-dad, and Harry ended up walking next to Niall.

“If you break my best friend’s heart, I break your face,” Niall said abruptly.

“What?” Harry was shocked. Niall laughed again, he seemed to do that a lot.

“I’m just joking, mate. You should have seen your face,” he wiped at his eyes. “Though, I will say, you owe me and one of these days, I will have a few favors to cash in. I had to distract Nick at least twice, change the place cards, and sit next to Lottie and Tommy being lovey-dovey newlyweds for you.”

“What?” Harry asked again, lamely. _Niall_ had switched the place cards? “You switched the cards?”

“Come on, you and Lou haven’t been fooling anyone all day. It was either switch the cards or watch him moon over you across the table all evening, and then hear him whine about your curly hair again for months until he actually got up the courage to ask you out.” Louis had been so self-assured and confident, this alternate image of him was… nice. Harry studied him where he was retrieving his whole family’s bundle of coats and tipping the attendant generously.

Niall nudged him forward towards where Louis was.

“Louis, I um… have to go down to my office and get my change of clothes.” At the mention of Harry’s office, Louis went an adorable shade of pink. How the tables had turned.

“Maybe it’s best if I wait for you up here, then?” he joked.

“Probably.” Harry smirked and headed back to the security door Louis had kissed him against not even an hour before.

 

On Monday morning, he saw his office in the clear light of day for the first time. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his mobile.

 **Harry** : _I’m going to be late getting back to your place tonight._

 **Louis** : _That is unacceptable. Why would you even suggest that?_

 **Harr** **y** : _Well there’s a mysterious mess in my office that someone has to clean up. So I’ll have to make up the work time_.

 **Louis** : _Sorry I’m not sorry. See ya at 6, baby._

 **Harry** : _I’ll be there._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it please let me know below! 
> 
> You can also find the fic post [here](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com/post/159976242586/make-him-want-to-sin-by-quickedween-95k-the).


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